Lickety-split we loaded up, skittered into the Jimmy, and we were off to a new hunt location.
I had no idea where we were headed next, but my husband drove off with purpose. He knew exactly where he was going.
Are you here to photograph or are you here to help me find deer?
Poof! Just like that, at the sound of my husband’s stern whisper, my hair-brained thought about entering that mine shaft evaporated. And it was a good thing.
Of course, I answered. I just wanted to get a shot or two of this mine.
We left for the hunt on Friday morning.
The clock read 3:48 a.m. as I said goodbye to my dogs and followed my husband out of the house.
(I hadn’t slept much. I wasn’t at all ready for the wicked 2:30 a.m. wake-up call from my husband’s ancient and much-hated-by-me alarm clock. Bright-eyed-and busy-tailed, I was not.)
We hopped into our trusty, 1983 Jimmy, permanently marked with plenty of Desert pinstriping, and headed out.
I was headed down the highway in the early morning and all these beautiful hot air balloons just happened to be floating by.
I just couldn’t resist.
I pulled the car over, grabbed my tablet and snapped this fabulous pic. So colorful against the deep blue Arizona sky.
Silently they floated up, up and away.
You just never know what delightful opportunities God has waiting for us each day. If only we will take the time to notice.
Today is a family reunion of biblical proportions. It’s my husband’s side of the family. It’s been years since the last one and I’m so looking forward to it.
I love this side of the family. So many colorful characters–all of them, the product of generations of Texas and Arizona cattlemen and cowboys.
We were instructed to bring “a dish” to share and so I pondered, what to bring, what to make? This is not an anemic gourmet crowd–for them, it’s all about comfort food, and troughs of it.